It’s always interesting…the conversations that you get into when your name begins with “Sister”. Well, mine does, so this past weekend I was in several conversations that started off with, “Did you read that article about Mother Teresa?”
After the first time that someone mentioned the article to me, I went home and read it. Yes, it was unexpected to hear of her struggles, but certainly not shocking. Many great saints wrote of experiencing similar periods of darkness and doubt (including great mystics like Teresa of Avila and, of course, John of the Cross, who wrote of this experience in Dark Night of the Soul). Perhaps the most surprising – and admirable – fact is that Mother Teresa seems to have lived for so long in this ‘dark night’. Why admirable? Because despite the questions she persisted in her chosen life and ministry. She was open to letting God continue to work through her despite her doubts and uncertainties. There certainly had to have been a kernel (and probably much more!) of faith or she would have totally abandoned the way of life.
A friend once asked me, “Is it enough for you to know the presence of God, or do you need to FEEL his presence?” I suppose that must have been some of Mother Teresa’s struggle. She didn’t always feel that presence. There wasn’t a physical voice, a pat on the back, an embrace…just an overwhelming, daily dose of human suffering and pain.
We have an amazing way of putting people on pedestals and turning them into something super-human…especially when it comes to saints and heroes. We forget that they were/are human beings, just like us. We don’t want to hear that they have feet of clay. We forget that their lives are set before us as something to imitate. Of course, if I put someone like Mother Teresa or Francis of Assisi on a pedestal, then I’m excused from the challenge that they set before me. I can easily say, “Oh, they could do that because they were special! I could never be expected to live up to that standard.”
Maybe it’s helpful to hear that someone like a Mother Teresa had doubts as well. It’s encouraging to know that my questions and frustrations are perfectly ‘normal’. It’s often the people who have a more intimate relationship with God that have the most ‘blunt’ conversations with God. After all, don’t we tend to be more willing to challenge and question those that we are closest to? Many years ago, I stumbled across the prayer below by Thomas Merton – it got me started on year-long Merton-reading binge. It rang true then and I still often go back to it.
My Lord God,
I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself,
and the fact that I think I am following Your will
does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please You
does in fact please You
and I hope that I have that desire
in all that I am doing. And I know that if I do this,
You will lead me by the right road
though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust You always
though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death,
I will not fear, for You are ever with me
and You will never leave me to face my perils alone.
– from Thoughts in Solitude by Thomas Merton