Faithfulness in the Desert
Faith in the Public Square
Lompoc Record
September 9, 2007
Excepting John Paul II, the Dalai Lama, and Billy Graham, few religious figures are better known to us than Mother Teresa of Calcutta. Whether or not we're Roman Catholic, for many of us this seemingly frail woman has come to epitomize faithfulness, humility, and service to God and humanity. Even a non-Catholic can affirm her sainthood, even if we don't agree with all that she's said or written, because it's her example of ministry to the poor, to the disenfranchised, and the hurting that has stirred our respect and admiration.
Her nearly 50 years of service to the lepers and the impoverished of Calcutta encouraged many others to join her in Calcutta or in similar ministries around the world. The image that comes to my mind, when I think of her work, is Jesus' statement about the Day of Judgment. Having invited into the kingdom those who had given him food and drink and clothing and welcome, the question arose: “When did we see you in such a state and serve you?” The answer: “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me” (Matthew 25:31-40 NRSV). Most assuredly, Mother Teresa served Jesus in his time of need.
I've not yet read Come Be My Light, which comes out this month, but even if it's not the next “Confessions of St. Augustine,” it appears to be a book that will inspire hope in so many who struggle with life and with faith. I tend to agree with this statement of historian Martin Marty, who has written a biography of another conflicted saint of God, Martin Luther:
September 9, 2007
Lompoc Record
September 9, 2007
Excepting John Paul II, the Dalai Lama, and Billy Graham, few religious figures are better known to us than Mother Teresa of Calcutta. Whether or not we're Roman Catholic, for many of us this seemingly frail woman has come to epitomize faithfulness, humility, and service to God and humanity. Even a non-Catholic can affirm her sainthood, even if we don't agree with all that she's said or written, because it's her example of ministry to the poor, to the disenfranchised, and the hurting that has stirred our respect and admiration.
Her nearly 50 years of service to the lepers and the impoverished of Calcutta encouraged many others to join her in Calcutta or in similar ministries around the world. The image that comes to my mind, when I think of her work, is Jesus' statement about the Day of Judgment. Having invited into the kingdom those who had given him food and drink and clothing and welcome, the question arose: “When did we see you in such a state and serve you?” The answer: “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me” (Matthew 25:31-40 NRSV). Most assuredly, Mother Teresa served Jesus in his time of need.
Now, 10 years after her death, as sainthood seems assured, a book of letters has appeared that sheds a different light upon her life. As first reported in a Time magazine article, a series of letters written to her confessors and superiors reveal an assertive and determined woman intent on following her calling, even if that meant going over the heads of her superiors and appealing to the Pope. What's more provocative to some is the portrait of a woman of faith experiencing doubt and spiritual despair. It appears that for much of her life she endured a spiritual desert; what some call the “dark night of the soul.”
Prior to embarking on her ministry to the poor of Calcutta, she had experienced ecstatic visions and sensed a deep spiritual intimacy with Jesus, but once she stepped out on this new venture, she encountered a wall of silence that was lifted only once in the years that followed.
In one letter to a confessor she writes:
“God - please forgive me - When I try to raise my thoughts to Heaven - there is such convicting emptiness that those very thoughts return like sharp knives & hurt my very soul.”
Some have taken this as a confession of atheism, but to read these confessions in this way is to misread them. Even in the midst of her darkness and doubt, it's clear that she continued to pursue the presence of God.
These letters offer a word of encouragement to those experiencing a sense of God's absence. Knowing that one of God's saints has shared my own experience of God's silence, inspires me to persevere in my faith even when I confront my own dark nights of the soul. Perhaps, as some have said, she entered so intimately into the sufferings and darkness of those she served and shared life with, that she took on their sense of God's absence.
I've not yet read Come Be My Light, which comes out this month, but even if it's not the next “Confessions of St. Augustine,” it appears to be a book that will inspire hope in so many who struggle with life and with faith. I tend to agree with this statement of historian Martin Marty, who has written a biography of another conflicted saint of God, Martin Luther:
“So I don't get to vote with Rome on her sainthood or not. I do vote for her to be seen as a profoundly interested person who kept agonies to herself until her work was done, after which the revelation of the agonies could serve spiritual purposes without distracting her from her healing work.”
We may honor her faithfulness to her calling to service - and hear in it a call of our own to serve humanity - even if in the midst of our own service to God we don't hear God's voice calling out to us.
Dr. Bob Cornwall is pastor of First Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) of Lompoc (www.lompocdisciples.org). Blogging at http://pastorbobcornwall.blogspot.com he may be contacted at lompocdisciples.org or c/o First Christian Church, P.O. Box 1056, Lompoc, CA, 93438.
Comments
Good point. As I read her quote I was thinking that if people ever read my journals, that could easily find all kinds of entries that would cause them to question my faith in God, but I think part of faith is in the struggle - and whoever said doubt was the opposite of "faith" anyway?
Christian J.