The Ten Rules of Nguyen Van Thuan
The statistics tell the story.
By May 30, 2023 more than 1,033 of the January 6 Capital rioters and insurrectionists had been arrested and approximately 485 defendants have received federal prison sentences - up to 18 years for members of the Oath Keepers found guilty of seditious conspiracy; 277 defendants were sentenced to time in federal Gray Bar Hotels and roughly 113 to periods of home detention.
Almost 150 defendants have pleaded guilty to felonies, including 61 who admitted assaulting law enforcement officers; 421 others have pleaded guilty to misdemeanors; 78 defendants were found guilty by judges or juries of their peers
All of them – indeed, everyone – might learn from the “Ten Rules of Life” of Nguyen Van Thuan.
The oldest of eight children, Francis-Xavier Nguyen Van Thuan (1928-2002) was born into an extremely prominent Vietnamese family: one of his uncles was the first president of South Vietnam; another was an Archbishop of Hue; his family’s Catholic roots dated to the 1600s and included a number of martyrs.
Ordained a priest in 1953 at age twenty-five, he was assigned to Rome after three years of pastoral work and earned a doctorate in Canon (Church) Law in 1959. Francis-Xavier was named Bishop of coastal Nha Tang in 1967 and Coadjutor Bishop of Saigon (the Church equivalent of executive vice-president with right of succession) in 1975. The communist government of Vietnam saw his appointment as Vatican interference and, upon his arrival in Saigon that May, he was arrested and, without benefit of trial, taken to North Vietnam, where he was imprisoned in a “reeducation camp.”
He spent the next thirteen years (1975-1988) of his life as a prisoner, nine of those years in solidary confinement. In prison, he once asked a delivery boy to bring him calendars, which he tore into small pieces and used to send messages to the people of Vietnam. The epistles were ultimate edited into The Road To Hope.
With the palm of one hand as an “altar,” he managed to celebrate Mass using small bits of hosts and wine, smuggled to him as “stomach medicine,” and reciting the prayers from memory.
Released in 1988, he was kept under house arrest in Hanoi until he was allowed to travel to Rome in 1991. But denied reentry to his own country.
While some of his Rules are specific to the Roman/Anglican Catholic traditions, others are applicable to every human condition. We humbly present the reflections of this man, who was named “Blessed” by Pope Francis in 2017 and is now a candidate for sainthood in the Roman Catholic Church.
Read on. His lesson on prayer is worthy of the ages.
1. I will live the present moment to the fullest.
From the very first moment of my arrest, the words of Bishop John Walsh, who had been imprisoned for 12 years in Communist China, came to my mind. [It is probably that Francis-Xavier was referring to American Roman Catholic Maryknoll Bishop James Edward Walsh, who was imprisoned in China from 1958-1970. Bishop Walsh ordained Father Skip Flynn a deacon and was present for his ordination to the priesthood.]
On the day of his liberation Bishop Walsh said, "I have spent half my life waiting."
It is true. All prisoners, myself included, constantly wait to be let go.
I decided then and there that my captivity would not be merely a time of resignation but a turning point in my life.
I decided I would not wait. I would live the present moment and fill it with love. For if I wait, the things I wait for will never happen.
No, I will not spend time waiting. I will live the present moment and fill it with love. "A straight line consists of millions of little points". Likewise, a lifetime consists of millions of seconds and minutes joined together. If every single point along the line is rightly set, the line will be straight. If every minute of a life is good, that life will be holy. The Road of Hope is paved with small acts of hope along life’s way. A life of hope is born of every minute of hope in that lifetime.
2. I will discern between God and God’s works
One night, from the depths of my heart I could hear a voice advising me:
"Why torment yourself? You must discern between God and the works of God. Everything you have done and desire to continue to do… All of that is excellent work, the work of God but it is not God! If God wants you to give it all up and put the work into his hands, do it and trust him. God will do the work infinitely better than you; he will entrust the work to others who are more able than you. You have only to choose God and not the works of God!"
This light totally changed my way of thinking. When the Communist put me in the hold of the boat, the HAI-PHONG along with 1500 other prisoners and moved us to the north, I said to myself, "here is my cathedral, here are the people God has given me to care for, here is my mission: to ensure the presence of God among these, my despairing, miserable brothers. It is God’s will that I am here. I accept his will". And from that minute onwards, a new peace filled my heart and stayed with me for thirteen years.
3. I will hold firmly to one secret: prayer
When I was let out of prison, several people remarked that at least I had had a lot of time to pray! It’s not as simple as you may think. God allowed me to see all my weaknesses, both physical and mental. Time passes so slowly in prison, particularly during solitary confinement. A week, a month, two months are exceedingly long but as they turn into years, it becomes an eternity! There were days when I was not able to recite a single prayer.
A story came to my mind, the story of old Jim. Every day at twelve o’clock, Jim went into church and after not more than two minutes, he left. The sacristan [custodian] was intrigued. One day, he grabbed Jim and asked, "What do you come in here for every day?"
"I come in say prayer."
"That’s impossible. What kind of a prayer can you say in 2 minutes?"
"Me ignorant old man; pray to God my own pray."
"But what do you say?"
"I say, "Jesus, here Jim" and I go out"
Years go by. Jim grows old, becomes ill and enters the hospital, in the ward for poor people. After a time, they see that Jim is going to die and the priest and a nurse are with him at his bedside.
"Tell us, Jim, why is it that since your arrival in the ward everything has changed for the better? The men are happier and friendlier."
"Dun no. When I could walk, I went around and visit everybody, say hello, talk a bit. When I’m laid up. I call to everybody from my bed, laugh a lot, make everybody happy. Jim always happy."
"But why are you always happy?"
"When you get a visit every day, you happy, right?”
"That’s right. But who comes to see you? We’ve never seen anyone."
"Jesus. He come every day at twelve o’clock."
"And what does he say to you?"
"He says, Jim, here Jesus!"
As Jim was dying, he gestured and smiled broadly and pointed to the chair beside his bed, inviting someone to sit down. After a short time, he smiled again, closed his eyes and died.
At times, when my strength failed and I could not even recite my prayers, I repeated, "Jesus, here Francis.” Consolation came and I knew that Jesus was replying, "Francis, here Jesus.”
Praying is being with someone, with Jesus.
4. I will seek the peace the world cannot give
When I began to discern between God and God’s works, when I chose God and his will and left everything else in his hands when I learned to love others, especially my enemies as Jesus loved me, I felt great peace in my heart. Deprived of freedom, of absolutely everything and living in extreme poverty in my dark cell, I was at peace because I could say, "My God and my all."
The peace that the world cannot give brought me great joy. "Holiness consists in being continuously joyful because we possess God" (Road To Hope, pg. 532).
"Why are you unhappy? It must be that something disturbs your relations with God" (RH pg. 534). "You forget that you have the gift of happiness to present to others, the gift of peace which this world cannot give, your treasure of joy which knows no bounds" (RH pg. 540). In the light of these thoughts, I laughed at myself and at the world. The things that seemed so important ten years ago appeared foolish. Why did I let those things disturb my interior peace? They were all vain, infantile, ambitious, anxious yearnings that separated me from God.
On my episcopal [bishop’s] ring, two words are inscribed: "Todo pasa". Saint Teresa of Avila wrote that, "Todo pasa, solo Dios basta". [“All things are passing; God alone suffices.”]
5. I will speak one language and wear one uniform: Charity
Prisoners held captive for very long periods, without trial and in oppressive conditions retain bitter memories and sentiments of hate and vengeance. That’s a normal reaction everywhere.
I was in prison for 13 years, 9 of which in solitary confinement. Two guards watched me but never spoke to me; just yes and no.
But I knew that after all, they were my brothers and I had to be kind to them. I had no gift to offer; as a prisoner I had nothing at all, nothing to please them. What to do? One night, a thought came. "You are still very rich. You have the love of Christ in your heart. Love them as Jesus loves you". The next day I set to work, first, by showing gladness and by smiling. I began to tell stories about my journeys in countries where people live in freedom and enjoy their culture and great technical progress. That stimulated their curiosity and they asked many, many questions. Slowly, very slowly, we became friends. They wanted to learn foreign languages. My guards became my disciples! The atmosphere of the prison changed considerably. The quality of our relationship changed for the better.
At that time, in another part of the area, a group of twenty people were learning Latin to be able to read Church documents. Their teacher was a former catechist. One of my guards was in the Latin class and one day he asked me if I could teach him songs in Latin.
"There are so many,” I replied, "And they are all so beautiful.”
"You sing and I’ll choose," he retorted.
And so I sang Salve Regina, Salve Mater, Lauda Sion, Veni Creator, Ave Maris Stella - You’ll never guess the song he chose. The Veni Creator!
I can’t begin to tell you how moving it is to be in a Communist prison and hear your guard, coming down the stairs at 7 AM every morning on his way to the gymnastics yard for physical exercises, singing the Veni Creator.
I will speak one language: Charity.
While at prison in Vinh-Quang in the mountains of North Vietnam, I was sawing wood one afternoon. I asked my ever-present guard, who had become my friend, if I could ask him for a favor.
"What is it? I’ll help you"
"I want to saw off a small piece of wood in the form of a cross."
"Don’t you know that’s strictly forbidden to have any sign of religion whatsoever?"
"I promise to keep it hidden."
"But it would be extremely dangerous for the both of us." "Close your eyes, I’ll do it right now and I’ll be very careful"
He turned his back and left me alone. I sawed a small cross which I later hid in a piece of melted down soap. I have kept it always and had it mounted in a piece of metal and it has become my pectoral cross [the cross a bishop wears on a chain around his neck].
In another prison in Hanoi, I became friends with my guard and was able to request a piece of metal wire. He was terrified. "I studied in the University of Police that when someone wants electric wire he want is to kill himself!" he cried. I explained the Christians, and most of all priests, do not commit suicide.
"And so what are you going to do with electric wire?" he asked.
"I need a chain to wear my cross."
"But how can you make a chain from wire?"
"If you bring me two little pincers, I’ll show you."
"Much too dangerous!"
"But we’re friends!"
He hesitated and finally said, "It’s too hard to refuse. Tonight at 7 PM we’ll do it. But we have to finish before 11. I’ll have my companion take the evening off. If he knew, he’d denounce the both of us.”
That evening, with the tools he brought, we cut and shaped and worked together to make my chain and we finished it before 11 PM!
This cross and chain are not only my souvenir of captivity, as precious as that may seem. They are a constant reminder that only Christian charity can bring about a change of heart. Not arms, not threats, not the media. It was very hard for my guards to understand when I spoke about loving our enemies, reconciliation and forgiveness.
"Do you really love us?"
"Yes, I really love you."
"Even when we cause you pain? When you suffer because you’re in prison without trial?"
"Look at all the years we’ve spent together. Of course, I love you!"
"And when you get out, will you tell your people to find us and beat us and hurt our families?"
"I’ll continue to love you even if you wish to kill me"
"But why?"
"Because Jesus taught us to love always; if we don’t, we are no longer worthy to be called Christians."
There is not enough time to tell you all the other moving stories which are proof of the liberating power of the love of Jesus.
"You wear one uniform and speak one language - Charity.” "Charity is the sign by which you will be recognized as one of our Lord’s disciples.” (John 10:10). It is a badge which costs little but is most difficult to find. Charity is the most important language. Saint Paul regarded it as far more important than being able "to speak the languages of men and even of angels" (1 Cor 13:1).
The entire “Ten Rules of Life” of Nguyen Van Than are available at Ten Rules of Life - Cardinal Nguyen Van Thuan + Duc Hong Y Nguyen Van Thuan + Đường Hy Vọng