Recently, I read an article about Mother Teresa in Time magazine, about her so-called “crisis of faith.” Since this story has been all over the place lately, I won’t really rehash it here. (You can read it in the above link, if you like.)
Since I read this article, I can’t stop thinking about it. Phrases like these have just gotten under my skin, and stayed there:
- extravagantly dissonant
- self-contradiction
- seemingly peaceful
- Jesus took himself away
- Teresa finally woke up
I’m not here to discuss whether Mother Teresa was a Christian (between her and God), or her methods of ministering to those living in Calcutta. I’m here to discuss people’s perceptions of a Christian who has a crisis of faith.
I think the thing that made me the most angry about the article in Time was their implication that Mother Teresa’s doubts meant that Jesus was no longer “present.” What the heck does that mean anyway? When I’m angry at someone, when I don’t understand someone’s actions, it doesn’t mean that I think they’re gone. Granted, I understand with God, it’s different. I’ve never physically seen God. So it can be easy to not “feel” his presence. Especially when I’m mired in this sinful fallen world–mired in my own sin.
And I think that’s what gets me the most about the recent criticism of Mother Teresa. Those people, the ones who refer to the “dissonance” and “contradiction”–have any of them seen poverty first-hand? Do any of them understand what it’s like to look in the face of a begging child, her belly swollen by malnutrition? Have they seen a mother die slowly, painfully of AIDS–while her children watch? Watched a teenager sell her body so her family can eat?
Because if they had seen those things, they wouldn’t ask, “how could Mother Teresa have had doubts?” They would ask “where did she find the strength to keep going?”
Another thing that drives me crazy, is the assumption that Mother Teresa’s doubts cancelled out her faith. The claim that she must have been less than honest when she spoke about her love of Christ, her faith in the Lord. That, is one of the most erroneous beliefs I’ve heard. I can only thank God that he forgives my unbelief–that He makes me whole, despite my brokeness.
Again, I’m not making any kind of judgement call on Mother Teresa herself. I’m just saying, I know what it’s like to have doubts, to be so angry, so confused, so filled with grief, that I can’t see straight–I can’t see God. And I find comfort in knowing that other people who proclaim Jesus as Lord have dealt with the same feelings.
So, when I read Mother Teresa’s words, read her fears and her doubts, I sympathize. And I will claim her words as my own:
Come, be my light.