Thinking about Mother Teresa

[pegkerr]

I have been thinking a great deal about this article ever since I read it. Time Magazine has published a report about the inner life of Mother Teresa:

On Dec. 11, 1979, Mother Teresa, the "Saint of the Gutters," went to Oslo. Dressed in her signature blue-bordered sari and shod in sandals despite below-zero temperatures, the former Agnes Bojaxhiu received that ultimate worldly accolade, the Nobel Peace Prize. In her acceptance lecture, Teresa, whose Missionaries of Charity had grown from a one-woman folly in Calcutta in 1948 into a global beacon of self-abnegating care, delivered the kind of message the world had come to expect from her. "It is not enough for us to say, 'I love God, but I do not love my neighbor,'" she said, since in dying on the Cross, God had "[made] himself the hungry one — the naked one — the homeless one." Jesus' hunger, she said, is what "you and I must find" and alleviate. She condemned abortion and bemoaned youthful drug addiction in the West. Finally, she suggested that the upcoming Christmas holiday should remind the world "that radiating joy is real" because Christ is everywhere — "Christ in our hearts, Christ in the poor we meet, Christ in the smile we give and in the smile that we receive."

Yet less than three months earlier, in a letter to a spiritual confidant, the Rev. Michael van der Peet, that is only now being made public, she wrote with weary familiarity of a different Christ, an absent one. "Jesus has a very special love for you," she assured Van der Peet. "[But] as for me, the silence and the emptiness is so great, that I look and do not see, — Listen and do not hear — the tongue moves [in prayer] but does not speak ... I want you to pray for me — that I let Him have [a] free hand."

The two statements, 11 weeks apart, are extravagantly dissonant. The first is typical of the woman the world thought it knew. The second sounds as though it had wandered in from some 1950s existentialist drama. Together they suggest a startling portrait in self-contradiction — that one of the great human icons of the past 100 years, whose remarkable deeds seemed inextricably connected to her closeness to God and who was routinely observed in silent and seemingly peaceful prayer by her associates as well as the television camera, was living out a very different spiritual reality privately, an arid landscape from which the deity had disappeared.

I have never entirely venerated Mother Teresa, as she supported many tenets of the Roman Catholic church that I simply cannot accept. But learning this about Mother Teresa has made me feel an unexpected kinship with her, and I have been brooding about that this week.

What I have been thinking about specifically is something that I have talked about with Kij occasionally over the years. I have always wanted my living to follow an ethical framework. I am, in fact, a Myers-Briggs ENFP ENFJ: the "F" (as opposed to "T") means that my mind operates on a "Feeling" axis rather than a "Thinking" one. But I have had to accept that how I live my life cannot be guided by how I feel about things. This is partly because I am subject to periodic bouts of depression, and so my feelings, which can occasionally be out of whack, are not a sound guideline. But more, I have come to feel that actions, if I wish to be ethical, must be guided by will, not by feeling.

Love is shown by actions, not by how one feels. I live out my love for my spouse not by how I feel about him but by how I treat him. Same with my kids. Same with God. It is painful, however, when these are dissonant. I have been thinking about what ethical questions it raises when this dissonance stretches on and on. Apparently these questions have been raised about Mother Teresa, too. If she experienced her relationship with God as being an endless silence, does this not mean, as some atheists have suggested, that she simply lacked courage to face what she should have realized as the truth, based on her own feelings: that there is in fact no God? Or was it in fact greater courage to continue on in obedience to what she felt was God's will, despite feeling no support or guidance from her God at all?

My depression seeps into many areas of my life: my faith, my marriage, my parenting. How do I live my life, despite it? What things must I continue to do, no matter what I feel? What must I keep doing, even if my feelings tell me that I am being a fool, that all is hopeless?

Much to think about.

Comments

[chelsearoad.livejournal.com]

I read the article too and it has had quite an impact on me (another ENFP) as well. Some people will use this to call her a hypocrite and deride religion, but I think everyone who uses their mind and has some religious faith also goes through a lot of questioning and soul searching.

[morganmuffle]

I've been wondering about posting a link to that article, trying to articulate the thoughts it causes swirling about in my head and I can't quite. Partly it's relief and a feeling of kinship that someone so revered can struggle but it's also heartbreak that she had to struggle on in darkness for so many years.

I don't know if you ever look at the christianity community, it can be a not very nice palce at times but there is a post discussing this article and I found it (and more to the point the comments) very thought-provoking. One of the regular posters there is really struggling with this new view of their hero and there are some great suggestions as to further reading on the subject of prominent christians who have experienced that disconnect between feelings and what they believe their actions should be.

[pegkerr.livejournal.com]

Thanks for the pointer; I will definitely check it out.

[joelrosenberg.livejournal.com]

While you're thinking about it, you might want to consider Hitchens' take on Mother Teresa. Hitchens being Hitchens, it's not particularly gentle, but you might find it interesting, and if you found it persuasive (I'm not saying that you will or should) it would resolve any issues in comparing yourself to her; you're a much better person than he thinks she was.

[prunesnprisms.livejournal.com]

I think everyone goes through doubts in their faith and even in their believe in themselves or others. I guess the real test of her faith is that she kept after what she believed to be her mission even during her doubts, to me.

[dd-b.livejournal.com]

I wasn't previously familiar with this information on her, and I must say it increases my sympathy for her at least a little bit. The Hitchens (convenient label, there are lots of sources of info) info had me at a pretty anti position, and that hasn't exactly changed, but seeing her as a tortured woman as well as a zealot makes me feel a little more sympathetic.

I'm inclined to view direct "religious" experiences as brain glitches (which we are starting to understand more and more about the physiological basis for); a faith dependent on them scares me.

What she's describing actually sounds a bit like depression to me -- the emotional deadness kind. Her language approaches the "religious experience" level, but reading carefully I don't think that's what she's really talking about. Carrying on with what she's decided in the face of that shows grit and courage -- but not recognizing it's a somewhat-treatable physiological condition is...unfortunate for her, anyway.

It does sound like to some extent she was trapped within her own image.

[kokopoko.livejournal.com]

I've read that a lot of saints have gone through a long period of time where they feel nothing from God. That it's like He's abandoned them. They've all determined that they were being tested.

So her letter doesn't mean she was lying to all of us, but that she was going through that kind of a period.

[skylarker.livejournal.com]

One of my main quibbles with Christianity as a religion is summed up in the disparity between the two statements:

"Love your neighbors as yourselves." and 'love your neighbors instead of yourselves.'

It seems to me that all too many Christians, including Mother Teresa take the message of the second statement, and this leads to some natural sense of self-neglect. It's not surprising if that also leads to depression, and in some cases even resentment against the others one feels obliged to love.

I think the original message intends a general practice of compassion, toward one's self and others alike.

[incandescens]

It reminds me of a quote from CS Lewis' Screwtape Letters (hastily googled for, so I can't check its authenticity, as my copy is at home and I'm at work).

It is during such trough periods, much more than during the peak periods, that it is growing into the sort of creature He wants it to be. Hence the prayers offered in the state of dryness are those which please Him best. We can drag our patients along by continual tempting, because we design them only for the table, and the more their will is interfered with the better. He cannot "tempt" to virtue as we do to vice. He wants them to learn to walk and must therefore take away His hand; and if only the will to walk is really there He is pleased even with their stumbles. Do not be deceived, Wormwood. Our cause is never more in danger, than when a human, no longer desiring, but intending, to do our Enemy's will, looks round upon a universe from which every trace of Him seems to have vanished, and asks why he has been forsaken, and still obeys.

[pegkerr.livejournal.com]

Yes! I should have thought of that excerpt from The Screwtape Letters.

I remember, however, when reading that, feeling troubled. I also remembered reading once a sort of sermonette/inspirational story and being irritated. Don't have a direct quote, but it went sort of like this: a person saw Jesus interacting with three people. With the first, he stopped and spoke kindly and at length. With the second, he put his hand on the person's head and offered a blessing. He walked by the third without a second glance, seemingly ignoring him. The point of the story was that the third person actually had the most faith and the deepest relationship with God, because he didn't need to "feel" close to God to be close to God. Instead of feeling inspired by this, I felt troubled:

What sort of God operates by ignoring the most those who are supposedly the closest to Him?

[incandescens]

That is a fair point, and I wish that I had an answer to it.

[bohemianspirit.livejournal.com]

What sort of God operates by ignoring the most those who are supposedly the closest to Him?

I don't believe in that sort of God. The grain of truth I do find in such speculations is that our perception is not always finely attuned to what is Out There, or In Us, available to be perceived. Sort of like the old blind men and the elephant story, we perceive partially, or not at all, but if at some point in our lives we ever bumped into the elephant, it's possible to live knowing (or believing) that it's still there even when we can't seem to touch it. Something like that.

The analogy applies to hope in general, not just to a belief in some sort of divinity.

[dreamshark.livejournal.com]

Year before last I saw a fascinating Fringe show that made a permanent impression on me. It was a young storyteller (whose name I've forgotten) talking about his upbringing as a Pentacostal Christian and how he left all that behind to move to New York and become an actor. Unlike many monologuists of that type, he talks about his friends and family with real affection and a little sadness, even though he no longer shares their beliefs.

What struck me about his story was this: the reason that he eventually lost his faith was because he couldn't hear God speaking to him and everyone else in his church could (or said they could). He was a sincere and devout young Christian, and apparently spent the first 18 years of his life feeling crushed because the teachings of his church made a big deal out of personal conversations with God, and he just couldn't hear that voice.

I had to wonder if his problem was that he took the "voice of God" thing way too literally. I'm willing to bet that most of the devout members of that church didn't literally hear voices either. Yet somehow none of the spiritual advisors he confided in ever were willing to admit that. They just told him to "listen harder" and ultimately lost one of their little lambs to the Big City of Sin. Would it have killed his pastor to say, "Some people experience God differently, my son, as a feeling instead of a voice?"

Maybe I'm missing the point of the Mother Theresa story, but I wonder if she's doing the same thing - expecting a little too literally to have conversations with God, and discounting the feelings, impulses and motivations that have driven her to do God's work all these years. If that's the case, she isn't doing anybody else in her faith any favors by letting people think she's in constant communication with God. Maybe if she'd been more honest with her admirers and followers all along she'd have been a better role model.

[joelrosenberg.livejournal.com]

If she experienced her relationship with God as being an endless silence, does this not mean, as some atheists have suggested, that she simply lacked courage to face what she should have realized as the truth, based on her own feelings: that there is in fact no God?

Well, no. One's feelings don't dictate what the truth is; at their most accurate, they may be a reflection of some aspect of it, or they may be totally out of whack, for any number of reasons, including chemical. (John Pinnette, roughly: "I don't drink Tequila anymore, because it makes me think I can ski.")

[pegkerr.livejournal.com]

Well, no. One's feelings don't dictate what the truth is. Yes, exactly, that is the conclusion I have reached, too.

But ya know, it's just hard sometimes. Particularly if, like me, you are a Myers-Briggs "F" so your mind is oriented toward feelings, and even more, if you have depression.

I guess I'm just whinging. (Er, sorry.)

[shandra.livejournal.com]

As another ENFP I really get what you are saying here. I do believe in listening to that "small, still voice" inside - but how to hear it is so often such a mess that it seems impossible to sort out. So how to proceed from there? Not sure.

In my marriage this always seems to come out around chores; not sure why that is.

I don't have huge feelings about Mother Teresa really - it's always seemed to me that she must have had to have a huge ego to go and GET people to care about lepers and so on and so forth, just like most saints sort of have if you really get into their lives (or else really weird mental problems). I tend to think it's more a weird concept of a kind of false humility within the Catholic err - ethos - that paints saints as humble, or calm. Or Jesus, for that matter - reading the Bible he's never come across to me as especially calm. Or even particularly humble. I've always taken that as a kind of PR gloss over the reality of messy human life.

I believe people often are driven to act out of their contradictions and doubts and I'm kind of glad to see some of hers coming to light.

Not sure this rambling really is helpful but - I -felt- like responding. :)

[kijjohnson.livejournal.com]

Thanks for writing this. It's very common for deeply religious people to have long periods of silence and doubt -- I have a feeling that if you never doubt, you're not doing it right.

Myers/Briggs correction

[pegkerr.livejournal.com]

While you are a great deal closer to a "P" on the M/B scale since you became a parent, you are still very much "J".

Rob, who is a "P", but closer to a J than before I became a parent.

Re: Myers/Briggs correction

[bohemianspirit.livejournal.com]

Being a parent brings out every resource you can possibly muster, Myers-Briggs be damned. ;-)

And thanks for setting up the tea for Peg!

[wild-patience.livejournal.com]

Zenit, the Vatican's news service, had its own little article on Mother Teresa and her dark night of the soul. They had more quotes from her.

The writer of the Times article must not have read much about/by Catholic saints, because this is a common spiritual phenomenon. Therese (of Liseaux) Martin writes of it in her Autobiography of a Soul. John of the Cross coined the phrase, "Dark Night of the Soul," and his autobiography speaks of it. Teresa of Avila speaks of it.

Partly it may be that we don't always hear when/how God is speaking. I went on a retreat recently on reclaiming your passion. The nun leading it made a bunch of us realize that we had all had mystical experiences, whether we had known/labeled them as such or not. She went through the various signs, such as being overcome by tears and a sense of awe.

Teresa of Calcutta was a tough cookie and not everyone's cup of tea -- I've met one of her ex-nuns from India and she said she was tough. But that's part of being the Body of Christ, I figure. (My apologies to non-Christians -- skip on by if you haven't already.) Some of us are loving hearts, some are helping hands, some are kind words, and some of us are those dog-gone fingernails that pick at things and irritate you!

[aome.livejournal.com]

I'm surprised that this is being posted now as new news, because I've known this story about Mother Teresa - that she felt a great silence from God, despite her unending devotion - for years and years. I'm wondering where I heard it before? Perhaps as something Catholic I read, designed to help those who are struggling with their faith to keep persisting? Not sure.

I'm in sort of an agnostic phase, myself, right now, which is a whole story in itself, but I think, from Mother Teresa's viewpoint, she wholly believed in God and in Catholicism, and that faith continued to sustain her and be important, regardless of that "silence". I think it's unfair to attack her for being afraid to admit atheism (or whatever) - if a person derives personal benefit in their belief, in believing that God is out there, or that said faith helps create life's purpose, then they should continue to believe and not be derided for it any more than someone who feels that yoga benefits them, even if someone else dismisses it.

[folk.livejournal.com]

See, I think that faith is particularly difficult for depressed **F*s like us, Peg, because I find that I simply cannot trust my F to pick the right path when my brain's not working properly. Which leads me to need to use my T, which I (a) hate and (b) am not particularly good at. And I find that the T leads to the I, the S and the J, again which are none of the things I'm best at.

All I can do is have faith and be as unswerving as possible.

[mayakda.livejournal.com]

I have been thinking a lot lately that "depression" must be a misnomer for NFs. (I am an INFP, sometimes I test as INTP). What people label as depression seems to me a perfectly normal reaction to the world, given that we have highly developed sense of empathy.

[katakanadian.livejournal.com]

I was raised in the United Church of Canada. Haven't been in years but I still believe in God. I never got into the whole "personal relationship with God/Christ" thing. I can't really explain my faith yet it is there. Maybe I've never had any great crisis of faith because I don't have expectations that God speaks directly to me.