Leave Me, Lord
If you have read any of my previous articles, you will know that I was raised Protestant, and remained so until our family became Catholic in 2007. In that paradigm, the figure of Mother Teresa was an enigma to me.
She was so obviously a servant to the “least of these,” as Jesus told us to be, but yet…she didn’t openly preach the Gospel. Her life seemed to exemplify the message of Christ, but yet…her mission did not seem to be that of converting the lost to Him. She appeared to be less concerned about speaking the words [of our Lord] than I could deal with on a comfortable level. The word “universalism” often rang inside my head when I heard of her work in India. I couldn’t reconcile it with my own world view.
I read a short biography of her life. I was so impressed by her enthusiasm and seemingly untiring desire to go forward in the calling God had placed in her heart. She was undaunted by her Mother General, priests, bishops, cardinals, and even the pope. There was a pressing need inside her that pushed her—a call from which she could not be dissuaded. She pressed on, knowing that God would make a way. And so He did.
Still, after reading the biography, I was not settled inside. Truly, she was a woman of passion. But was her passion rightly aligned with the truth of Scripture? Admirable work, yes, but was it the work of Christ as Christians have been called to fulfill it? I did not have a sure answer.
Even into my years as a Catholic, I struggled with these matters. Surely as Christians, we must yes, serve the poor, hungry, and homeless. However, mustn’t we also give them the living water of the life, death, and resurrection of the One we represent? She openly told the Hindus that she was not there to convert them. She was simply there to care for their dying, to teach their children to read, and to live among them, as one of them.
Then, about four years ago, I came across the book, “Mother Teresa’s Secret Fire.” At last, I would see deeply into the heart of this little nun who made such a great impact on the entire world. This humble woman who walked the filthiest streets, cared for those with the most repugnant diseases, and showed such love to all, even as she admonished the world for its lack of love.
For those who do not know, she had a vision while on a train. Jesus spoke to her of His thirst. Again, a seeming enigma. These were words Jesus spoke on the cross. Why, though, now? He is seated at the right hand of the Father, interceding for us. He no longer knows the deprivations of human existence. How could He express a thirst?
In His words, Mother Teresa found her calling. For the thirst her Lord now conveyed was a thirst for souls—His desire for all to come to Him and know Him, to plunge into the depths of His passion and death, and to glory in His resurrection. He wanted them to SEE Him.
Thus her journey began. She saw in the poor, hungry, homeless, and dying the image of Christ—the suffering Savior calling out to all. She longed to show them the place of love and rest that only Christ could give them.
But what about the preaching?
I learned another lesson about that by reading this book. While she was a nun, and obviously a servant of Christ and His Church, she lived in a Hindu slum. For several years, many there saw her only as a white, Christian woman. That in itself was a threat to them. They had just become an independent nation, and did not want anyone telling them how to worship God (or, in their case, their many gods), or trying to “convert” them to a white religion.
Over the years, she simply showed them Christ. Along the streets of Calcutta, the dying were often left on the street to die alone. Those with open wounds were especially treated as outcasts. She determined that no human, made in the image of God, should die alone and separated from someone to show them love. She made it her mission to show love to all, no matter how wide the gap in their theology.
As her fame spread around the world, she refused to step into the limelight. Her goal was not to be well-known, but simply to love well and honor God. In a rare public appearance, she accepted the Nobel Peace Prize—but only because she knew it would bring more attention to the problems of poverty and suffering.
In that speech, and many years later in a speech before the United States Congress, she expressed the need to respect all life. She spoke out against the blight of drugs, the neglect of the elderly, and the crime of abortion. She “preached” to those who needed to hear the message of Christ. She held nothing back, but used the world stage to proclaim a message of life.
For deep in the heart of the ghettos of Calcutta, a saint lived a life of poverty. In the midst of hostility, she showed love.
Tonight, as I watched the movie, “The Letters,” I cried tears of joy when she received permission to begin the Missionaries of Charity. For I knew—truly knew—that this little woman preached the Gospel of Christ with every fiber of her being, in every moment of every day. I cried again as her anguish of heart was revealed. A woman of true holiness, desiring always to be even more holy, and feeling she had somehow failed in her efforts. Once more I cried, as the case was made for her canonization—as the leaders of the Catholic Church became even more aware of the holiness of this quiet nun.
I can say with all sincerity, that the life of this incredible woman has touched more people with the Gospel than all the great preachers who have ever graced a pulpit. The world listened, because she lived it. She preached with her actions.
Saint Teresa of Calcutta, pray for us.
To read the full text of her Nobel Peace Prize acceptance speech:
http://www.catholiceducation.org/en/religion-and-philosophy/social-justice/mother-teresas-nobel-peace-prize-acceptance-speech.html
You will find her speech to Congress here:
http://www.priestsforlife.org/brochures/mtspeech.html